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“The pilot needs to see you in the cockpit,” he said, handing me a paper printout of a boarding pass with my name and seat number.

I thought this was related to my bag issue.

“I already checked my bag,” I said.

“No you need to go to the cockpit,” he tried to explain. “I can’t say the reason out loud.”

Was it my comment on United losing my bags? Did I offend someone?

Was I about to get kicked off the flight? Should I sit down and refuse?

Would I get dragged off the plane screaming and be splashed all over social media?

By now the whole plane was staring at me as I headed to the front of the plane where the attendant who had tagged my bag briefly intercepted. There was some code scribbled on the ticket that obviously gave me clearance, and she smiled and showed me into the cockpit.

It was smaller than I imagined. I didn’t see any extra seats if they were making amends about previous lost luggage and letting me sit with the pilot.

The pilot took my boarding pass and said, “I know you are armed, so I just need to go over some things.”

Armed? I’m actually a pretty good shot at the shooting range and as a yoga instructor can knock a few people over with my standing bow pose, but I wasn’t packing any heat.

“I just have a tripod,” I said, seriously worried they thought I was a danger to the flight for being uneasy about checking my bag.

He looked at me and then again at the ticket, where my name was clearly printed. He could see I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Is this you,” he asked, pointing to my name?

“Yes,” I replied.

Hmmmm… He got up and handed the ticket to someone and said there had been a misunderstanding. It sounded like someone else was armed and the seat number was mixed up.

He apologized to me and said I could return to my seat.

“No worries, this is awesome,” I blurted out.

He looked even more confused. “Awesome?”

I took one last look inside the cockpit, since it’s not likely I’ll see one again, and chuckled all the way back to my seat, exaggerating a smile so the passengers wouldn’t think I was making a fuss and holding up the flight.

My only regret was not asking for the coded boarding pass as a souvenir.

“There was some mix-up about the thing I can’t say, but it’s all settled now,” the attendant said, smiling.

Confusing me for a sky marshal didn’t exactly instill confidence I would ever see my bag again, but I’m adding it to the resume.